


Anteros

by Angelic_Disaster



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Everything Hurts, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal is a little shit, Insufferable and never ending references to ancient greek religion & lore, M/M, Major Character Death x2, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a little shit, no beta - we die like hannibal and will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Disaster/pseuds/Angelic_Disaster
Summary: "An altar to Anteros was put up by the metics in Athens in commemoration of the spurned love of the metic Timagoras, who was rejected by the Athenian Meles. Upon hearing Timagoras' declaration of love for him, the young man mockingly ordered him to throw himself down from the top of a tall rock. Seeing Timagoras dead, Meles repented and threw himself down from the same rock."Of course Hannibal Lecter would bring the Greeks at this moment. Will laughs, the pain doesn't matter anymore. He can't believe how insufferable Hannibal is and how much Will loves him anyway.A re-imagination of the cliff scene inspired by Meles and Timagoras' myth.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Anteros

The Dragon is dead.

The smell of copper and salt stings in both pairs of lungs. 

Will is shaking, Hannibal is doing his best not to. They're holding to each other as if they were their respective life-lines. And, if they were honest to themselves, they have always been. 

Hannibal waits, he has been waiting, every second of this five years dance that have taken them to this moment. To the moment in which they're covered in their prey's blood; in which Will is close to him, holding onto him; in which Hannibal has finally seen the timid sparkle of fire behind Will's eyes become a pyre. And Hannibal hasn't seen ever anything more beautiful.

Will's lips part, and he is painfully close, Hannibal's body aches far more because he wants more than from his own injuries. Hannibal can't keep his eyes away from Will's face, he also doesn't try. Will sees him now, there is nothing to hide anymore. 

"You love me" Is not a question. Hannibal doesn't need to answer. Yet he does it.

"Yes."

There is understanging in Will's eyes and now he is closer.

"You would do anything I ask you to do." Will says, holding even closer, chest-to-chest, heartbeat-to-heartbeat. And it's also not a question. Hannibal answers it anyway.

"Yes." He says reverently, it sounds like a moan and like a whisper and Will eyes are on him, searching for a lie. But there isn't one. It's just Hannibal, complety, utterly naked, out of his person suit, and close. 

Now there is fear in Will's eyes and Hannibal has a spark of hope in his chest. What is that fear in Will's eyes? It is fear because of what he is going to ask Hannibal? Does he fear that Hannibal is going to obey him? It is fear because he doesn't wants him to obey? Or it is fear because he enjoys what he is going to ask. Hannibal doesn't know. He have been never able to predict Will Graham. He is not going to be able to predict him now. But he hopes for an specific answer at this question.

It's painful. Hope is a dangerous thing. It's sharp and pierces like needles in the spot of his chest where Will's chin is resting. It burns every single cell of skin that Will is touching. 

Hope it's dangerous, because it's also fragile. It's a teacup that has experienced a lifetime of crashing, of mending, of crashing again. It's a teacup balancing in the border of a cliff. Just like them. 

Hope is dangerous, and Hannibal knows it, he also knows he shouldn't have it. But he looks into Will's eyes and he sees the same face that had smiled at him while gutting Dolarhyde, and he hopes. 

Will's is now even closer, so close that Hannibal stops breathing, as if he moved too suddenly Will would dissapear. Hannibal holds onto him harder, swearing that at any moment Will is going to bleed out from his hands, that he is going to vanish like smoke. But he is closer, and the smell of copper and of salt and everything else dissappears. 

There is only one thing around him, and it's Will. Will's hands cupping his face, Will's forehead against his, Will's lips so close that are brushing his own. Is not a kiss, and also it is more than Hannibal had dared to hope. 

Hannibal shouldn't hope, yet he does.

"If you love me," Will tilts his head as he closes his eyes, not backing an inch, and Hannibal can feel the softness of Will's lips. Will's fingers are like claws against Hannibal's skin. "Then jump." 

It's final and it has taken all of the air from Hannibal's lungs. 

Against all odds, against the pain of his body, against the ache in his heart, against the idea of taking his own life, Hannibal caresses the back of Will's head, burying his fingers between the wet curls and kisses Will's forehead. And while he does it, Hannibal smiles. 

Hannibal is torn between pride and the highest stage of visceral love he had ever feel. Adoration could be an ever better word to explain the conglomeration of feelings that are revolting inside him.

 _Wrathful God._ He thinks.

"Ask and you shall receive" He says as he walks closer to the end of the cliff without looking back, feeling the eyes of the Furies behind him and Cerberus' warm panting wetly against nap, ready to sink it's teeth at his throat. Behind him Will is barely holding himself. 

The night is silent, the only sound is the waves and the wind and each other's difficulted and painful breathing.

Hannibal smiles as the wind caress his face. At any other moment of history he would have been disgusted by the idea of taking his own life. Now, he isn't, because he is not taking it, neither he is offering it. Will is taking it from him, this is Will's design. And it's even more intimate than his hands at Hannibal's throat. It's himself, entirely, inside Hannibal's body, mind and heart. He had consumed Hannibal entirely. He had infested his brain and heart like fungi. He has Hannibal so entirely at his feet that he doesn't even need to touch him to take his life.

Hannibal feels pride and love and adoration.

He walks another step and he is now at the very edge of the cliff. The teacup only needs the littlest of pushes to fall. 

Will's becoming surprases what Hannibal had imagined, it surprasses all what he had hoped. Will Graham, powerful and wrathful. He is not prey, he is not a mere hunter. He is such much more. He is a wrathful god; and who, if not Hannibal, his most faithful worshipper, deserves the honour to experience, see and receive his god's pure wrath in all its glory.

Hannibal watches where the sky and the waves collide on the horizon, his back turned to Will in some twisted matrimony between mercy and torture. 

Hannibal doesn't need to ask Will why he had asked this from him. He doesn't do it because he knows.

_I was curious of what would you do._

Hannibal's smile widens.

Will's eyes are blood-red, aching; he can't bring himself to close them. He can't bring himself to loss a single moment of Hannibal, a blink and he could have been gone. And he could have asked him not to jump. He could ask him not to jump now.

"Hannibal" Will says, but Hannibal doesn't turns, he slightly moves his face. Not entirely letting Will see his profile, but it's enough to let him know he has all of his attention (but has been a time in their conjoined history in which Will hasn't?). 

The air it's heavy, and echoes of church hymns dance around them. It's only fair. And it's only fair that Hannibal hears his confession. And it's only fair that he takes it with him to the sea. 

Will is not holding himself anymore, tears from holding his eyes open are running and dripping pink on the ground, mixed with the blood of his face.

 _Don't believe a single world, he is going to convince you to ask him to stop, he is going to manipulate this as he has manipulated every single second of your life, every single thought of your mind._ He knows Hannibal is going to try to speak and talk himself out of this situation if he lets him. Will prepares himself mentally for when Hannibal decides to open his venomous mouth. It doesn't come, so Will speaks first, and his voice is barely a whisper when he says "It's beautiful."

Then, before he turns back, Hannibal wonders if Hades is going to take away Euridice. And who of them is Euridice. 

Then they are eyes to eyes as both heartbeats stops, and Will shudders at the emotions that are displayed so raw in front of him. The person-suit is shredded, thrown at his feet in some kind of morbid offering, or is it only the cacoon on which the true offer, the meat for the feast, has been hiding. 

"Have you ever heard of Orpheus and Euridice?" Hannibal says and Will wishes he could laugh, but he has no air and his cheek burns with pain. Of course Hannibal would bring the greeks at this moment. Will doesn't answer, but he knows. Orpheus looks back, and Hades takes his lover away. Euridice comes back to the land of the dead, Orpheus comes back to the land of the living. Orpheus and Euridice are alone. Orpheus dies torn apart by beasts or the Maenads, missing Euridice every second until his demise. Will doesn't answer.

"If only words could describe what I feel for you Will, I would have told you. But I hope this is enough for you to see." Hannibal says and he is smiling, it's all teeth and visceral adoration, and Will _sees_ ; and in less than a heartbeat Hannibal says _I love you_ without moving his lips and the ground shatters, the teacup falls and the rug is pulled from under Will's feet as Hannibal dissappears.

It's not even a second and Will sees everything again, reproducing in his mind Hannibal's last expresion.

 _Why are you doing this?_ Will's own voice ask, echoing in the church of their shared memory palace

 _Because I was curious of what would you do._ Hannibal's voice answers from under the cattacombs of Florence.

Now Will laughs, the pain doesn't matter anymore. He can't believe how insufferable Hannibal is and how much Will loves him anyway. 

It's less than a second and Will jumps chasing after him.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic was born because Will is enough of bitch to order Hannibal to jump, and Hannibal is enough of a lovesick cannibal to actually do it, but not without messing a little with Will before that. English is not my first language, so, if you have some feedbackthat could help me to improve I will be very happy to read it. 
> 
> Thank you for coming all this way, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
